


denial

by fan_nerd



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gradual Relationship, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:07:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fan_nerd/pseuds/fan_nerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You hate Eren Jaeger – hate him with every bone in your body. He’s volatile, and a shitty human being, but deep down (and you loathe admitting such a thing to yourself), you hate Eren the most because he’s right.</p><p>Eren’s usually right, and you hate that more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hate is a very strong word and you aren't afraid to use it

**Author's Note:**

> And here you see my tragic downfall, falling into this pairing and being unable to get up. This fic is already completely written, so you can expect updates pretty frequently, albeit short chapters. The chapters alternate from the present day (when the boys are 21, and in college) to the past (starting in 8th grade, and working gradually forward). Chapters are from Jean's POV (second person). Without further ado, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work sucks.

Every day, you praise the asshole that coined the phrase, ‘hate is a very strong word’.

You _hate_ Eren Jaeger – hate him with every bone in your body.

He’s so _stupid_ – a real nosy bastard with a penchant for airing everyone’s dirty laundry, but men and women alike fawn over that asshole’s _eyes._ Sure, they’re the color of the ocean on some distant island somewhere, but _come on_. You hate the customers that come in here and giggle about how sharp the angle of his chin is—yours is _infinitely_ more defined, and handsome, and they are completely ignorant. After they ogle his face for a bit, most of those perverts move to his arms, which you guess are a little toned – you only know this because you’ve had the misfortune of being on the wrong end of his fist more than a few times, and his punches pack more force than people would expect. 

You’re not an idiot. You’re not winning any Mr. Universe contests in terms of looks, but all of Jaeger’s outward appearance is a big scam. He’s _eternally_ pissy, this petty jerk with a strong sense of justice and a filthy mouth. You take a moment to warn him, telling him to stop glaring at people from his place at the register, and he snarls at you. The two of you have always had this kind of interaction, and you wish that you could give him a black eye or two without fear of losing your job. 

Your manager this shift is the friendly but stern Petra – personally, she’s _your_ favorite one. When she sees the two of you mouthing off with balled fists, she reprimands you, and you wilt, letting out a sigh. Jaeger, as always, is an absolute _expert_ at getting under your skin. He stands there, looking all pretty, with his sort of tone arms folded over his chest, murmuring shitty things about you under his breath, and you use every ounce of willpower you possess not to break his nose.

How have you had the misfortune of being in such close connection to the guy you hate the most? The two of you couldn’t just be classmates at your run-of-the-mill public school system – _nooo._ Shit-for-brains brunette had been in more than _half_ of your classes, you two were in the same sport, and you’ve worked at the same place for at least four years. Worse still, now you two have the same major, attend the same college, and you are _so sick_ of hearing his clipped tones. Brawling had been a base instinct, since you constantly butted heads, but you two had a strictly ‘no blows to the face’ rule now. 

Remembering the last fight you’d had with Eren, you snicker to yourself, and Eren turns his sharp gaze in your direction before snorting dismissively. It’s a constant reminder that you don’t just hate this kid for no reason – he’s so shitty, you don’t even know how he has any friends. A customer comes in with a simple order, and you concentrate on making the best cup of coffee you can, but you mess up, and you can already feel your blood boiling, practically _hearing_ your co-worker’s sneer. 

“When you’re thinking, you always do shitty work. Also, you spilled some, moron.” Eren derides you without blinking an eyelash, and after he swoops in, quickly correcting your mistake, he smirks a bit. “You know, Mr. Levi will be here soon. Ms. Petra can only protect your sorry ass for so long.”

You take a black rag from your waist and wipe the bar, cursing quietly. Your fist balls in the cloth, and you hate how pleasant the brunette sounds as he hands the coffee to some businessman in a pristine, ceramic mug.

You hate a lot of things about Eren Jaeger. He’s volatile, and a shitty human being, but deep down (and you _loathe_ admitting such a thing to yourself), you hate Eren the most because he’s _right._  

Eren’s _usually_ right, and you hate that more.


	2. open mouth, insert foot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you more fucked because Mikasa is an ethereal beauty that is totally out of your league, or because you stepped on Jaeger's precious little toes and you two are still stuck in track together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, hope you cool cats enjoy this chapter. ;)

There’s this super-hot girl in your class, and you delude yourself that you could totally date her, from time to time. You have _such_ a charming personality, and your best-friend-from-the-second-grade, Marco, tells you there couldn’t be much to lose. The worst thing that can happen is that you get rejected. 

Pft, rejection. It’s like your freckle-faced best friend thinks that’s enough to stop you. You’ve got a reputation for being a stubborn bastard now. Her black eyes are beautiful; her hair is light and straight and _wonderful_. You smile a lot when you daydream of what would happen after you two date. She would be smiling, those glossy lips turned up just for you. When you got married, she would be the one that _you_ would serve breakfast to, worshipping her like a proper goddess. Okay, _of course_ you thought about her giving you a hand job, or peeling her bra off seductively too, but what self-respecting dude _didn’t_? She was drop-dead gorgeous, her Asiatic features standing out among this junior high. 

Marco laughed and murmured good-naturedly about your yellow fever. You scoff and scowl. It’s _Mikasa_ all the way for you, dude. Doesn’t matter what color her skin is, she's quiet and perfect. You don’t like _any_ other girls, Asian or otherwise. Besides, there was some rumor that she was half anyways, so whatever. 

Once you take a few days to even work up the nerve to talk to your goddess, you stumble over your words and smile sheepishly as you compliment her and then ask her if she’d like to hang out. 

“Sorry.” She sounds so sweet and subtle, looking you right in the eyes as she lowers her long eyelashes. _God_ , she’s beautiful, and you’re an idiot, and you don’t even care, so long as she keeps looking at you. “I’m busy this weekend.”

It hurts; even this small rejection is a bout of crushing humiliation, but she hadn’t said she hated you, or even that she didn’t want to hang out. _I’m busy this weekend_ became a mantra of hope for you, and you pumped your fist because you finally did it.

You walk on clouds all the way to class, and Marco pats you on the back with a smile. Once you finally settle into your assigned seat, you pull out a notebook and scribble silly things you might say to Mikasa _next weekend_ , giggling. The kid who sits in front of you is talking in the doorway to some blonde kid with a bowl cut. You’ve overheard someone say that they were best friends, even though the shorter dude was in the honors program. It crosses your mind that you’d never even seen your classmate smile. He’s always taking notes like he’s gonna die, and even though you’re not the brightest bulb in the drawer, you feel like this stuff isn’t as bad as the scruffy, brown-haired guy makes it look. It’s _history_ , for Christ’s sake, not _algebra._

What was that guy’s name, anyways? His last name started with a J – _duh_ – because your teacher had put you in alphabetical order. It didn’t matter. J kid didn’t look quite so crazy talking to his best friend, but the bell rang, so the two of them exchanged waves and J kid came to sit down right in front of you. He noticed your happiness, and quirked an eyebrow, waiting. There were five minutes before class began properly, after all.

“What’s that stupid look on your face for?” You've only talked once or twice, but you got the feeling this kid didn’t even know what the word tact meant. Besides, you’re in such a good mood; you decide to play nice with this kid, just this once.

“There’s this girl,” your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands start moving involuntarily. You feel like you could fly. “She’s amazing, and _so cool_. I’ve heard she’s really good at sports, too. Anyways, I finally talked to her today, and it was great.” 

“Huh.” J kid sounds pretty interested, and you’re surprised. Maybe he’s a nice guy after all. “Well, that’s good for you, I guess. Are the two of you going on a date or something?”

You flush, hurrying to pull out a writing utensil as your teacher cleared her throat. “Nah, not yet. But I feel like there’s definitely some potential.” The scruffy brunette laughed and you buried your nose into the notebook.

You figured maybe you could talk to this kid before class again.

* * *

When you go to a track meeting, you see him there, and he waves. You're visibly surprised – you know all these guys pretty well. You suddenly feel pretty shitty, and apologize for not speaking to him sooner and not knowing his name. J kid blinks a little bit, and you think he looks like a bit like a green-eyed owl. 

“Why would you know my name?” He stretches, and you notice that he looks like he’s in good form. Maybe he’ll threaten some of your records. “I just transferred to this school this year. It’s Eren, by the way.” The stupid question about his last name slips out of your mouth before you can help it, and he snorts, half-smiling. “Eren Jaeger. You’re, uh, Kirschtein, right?”

You’re a waste of oxygen. The new kid remembered your name, and you couldn’t even remember what he looked like until today, really. What the hell’s the matter with you? “I’m _really_ sorry.” Sincerity won’t wipe away your embarrassment. “You can call me Jean, if you want.” Since you’ve already made a fool out of yourself for the day, you figure you might as well continue the trend while the two of you stretch. “So, how do you know that blonde guy? Somebody said you’ve known each other a long time.”

“Jesus, you’re kind of intrusive,” Eren says. You feel your ears heat up, and you curse everything you stand for. You kind of wish you could die. He’s right and it sucks, so you attempt to stutter out an apology before he holds up a hand. “It’s not that bad. We’re teammates, right? We’d have to get comfortable with each other sooner or later.” You decide then that Eren's not half bad. You’d have to invite him over for movies with Marco, or maybe you’d ask him if he wanted to go to Connie’s place and have a beer or two. Sure, it’s illegal, but it’s not like there’s anything better to do. “I’m from here, y’know. Armin and I did actually go to the same elementary school. The school district just happened to change, so I switched to Maria this semester. We’ll probably end up in the same high school, too. Guess you’re stuck with me.” 

You smile and punch him in the shoulder. “Dick.” 

“So I’ve been told.” Eren laughs – this is the first time you’ve heard him laugh. It’s not the worst thing ever. So maybe he’s no Mikasa, but you know a good-looking guy when you see one.

* * *

Over the course of a few days spent talking to Eren, you start figuring out that he’s angry little shit and he wallops a mean punch. You’re no pushover, though, so the play fighting is a challenge, for once. Every time you slap Marco on the back, you’re afraid his asthma’s gonna act up, and his bones are gonna break. It’s nice to be friends with another guy who can dish it and take it. You guys like similar things, but Eren’s _super_ serious about them, to the point that you have to tell the dude to chill. 

Honestly, you’re both total jerkoffs, and you’re not entirely sure why the two of you even talk, but it’s cool. Eren lets you ramble on and on about Mikasa, even though you’ve never said her name to him. It feels too private, and you don’t want to be mocked about liking the hottest girl in the eighth grade. Of course, when you’re done with all your love-struck rambling, he tells you that you're nowhere near good enough to date her, but you can’t give up on her just yet. She’s the kind of girl that’s worth the extra effort, you swear. 

When you finally ask if he’s into anyone, he blankly stares back at you, and you sheepishly apologize in response. Eren always looks frightfully upset, but you know now that it’s just his perpetual state of being. He shouldn’t intimidate you. He’s shorter than you (not by much), and he’s probably just thinking. Of course, this is what you tell yourself after he takes so long to respond. “I don’t think so. Most people piss me off too much to date.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and fall back in your chair. “Christ, Jaeger, I thought you were gonna come out of closet or something, for all that build up.”

The way his blue-green eyes narrow at you tells you that you’ve made a terrible, horrible mistake. “Do you have some sort of problem with gay people?”

You try very hard to mind your tone, breaking into a nervous sweat. “I mean, are you? You just told me that you’re pissed at the human race.” Go on. Joke around. Laugh it off; even though you know good and damn well that this isn’t funny. When Eren punches you so hard you wheeze, you kind of feel like you deserve it.

“You’re an asshole, Jean,” Eren says, turning around and resolutely shutting up.

You crawl back into your seat with a small cough, and you refuse to acknowledge the guilt trapped in your gut. The fact of the matter is, gay people _do_ make you uncomfortable, and your awkward avoidance of the topic ends up fouling up the room. You didn’t even think you’d said anything particularly insulting – not _this_ time, anyways – but Eren picked up on it. His tan face is twisted into that murderous expression and it’s your fault.

Your head falls to the desk and you hate this. Practice is going to suck.


	3. pettiness should be some kind of virtue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t about the mocha latte. It never is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~A double update, and then seriously, two day wait. Well. That's the plan, anyways.~~  
>  Hahahaha broken laughter. I'm just gonna update when I feel like it. Whoever said patience was a virtue was lame.

You don’t really understand why people practically _gravitate_ towards him. He’s crude, recklessly honest, and constantly infuriated. If you had to name something you actually liked about Eren, it was that he whipped up a mean cup of coffee. Okay, you’re not being fair. If you weren’t a dick, you’d think of some nicer things to say to the guy that smoked your ass in fights _and_ on the track field, but you are, and you’ve come to terms with that. As it stands, his proficiency with coffee mixology is his only redeeming factor, keeping him from being a _completely_ useless bastard.

Admitting such a thing makes you feel ill, so you opt to recall your last semi-successful date instead. This turns out to be a horrible idea. She had been interested in tall, dark, and loathsome over there, and even though you’d wanted to charm her into your bedroom, that was definitely the biggest turn off of the century. The fact that she’d accused you of being jealous made you scowl. 

Who the hell was jealous over _him_? Fuck Eren. You sincerely hoped the universe would give you half of his good luck and one hundred percent less of his existence. You don’t remember when you turned to glare at him. He glares back at you over his shoulder, and hisses an acidic, “What.”

“Nothing,” you admit, going back to polishing the equipment. If the milk frother (among other things) wasn’t spotless in 20 minutes, your manager was gonna come back and bitch at you, and nobody wanted that. Levi was like, two feet tall, but he had a temper shorter than a fuse, and he was notorious for making useless people disappear. As in, for good. You knew better than to piss him off.

The bell on the door jingled, and Eren called out to the customer. You resist the urge to glare at him again. Shit-for-brains hardly has the personality to be maintaining the register, and even if everyone thinks gorgeous-eyes walks on water, you know better. He should be back here, polishing this shit until he bleeds. This is baseless, and you’re just needlessly venting aggression. Erwin, _the_ big guy, swaps your cleaning duties every week. Levi doesn’t give a shit who cleans, so long as the place is verifiably spotless.

“Mocha latte, sir?” Eren is the perfect little barista, and you hate him all over again. “Would you like that for here or to go?”

 _For here or to go_ , you mimic his voice in your head, and you snicker breathlessly. You see Franz, another coworker, kind of the new guy, giving you a _look_. It’s a look that could mean a lot of things. _What the fuck_ , or, _Why the hell,_ or, most likely, _Could you stop hating Eren for conducting good business?_  

You know. God, _Christ_ , you know. You roll your eyes and mouth, “Sorry,” but you don’t really mean it. When Eren rattles off the price and gives you a very different, very impatient look, you snatch the cup with the man’s name out of his hand and get to work.

“Think you can get it right this time?” Eren mocks after he’s given the customer a placating smile. 

 _It’s not surgery, and stop acting like I fuck up everything I do, Jaeger._ Aloud, you say, “Shut up.”

“I know how you are with lattes,” If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was actually being nice. Because you _do_ know him better than that, you want to throttle him. “A _mocha_ latte – you might wanna pass the torch, trots.” 

“I’d kill you if I wouldn’t lose my job, Jaeger.” You grunt the words, concentrating all of your focus on making this world-changing, miraculous, incredible cup of coffee, determined to earn some old pervert’s praise. If you get a tip, that’ll make your victory that much sweeter. It’ll be enough fodder to mock Eren with for the rest of the month. Encouraged, you work even faster.

The mocha latte in the cup is a work of fucking art; dainty twirls of a clean stirring stick making a leaf out of the frothy milk and powdered cinnamon. You _dare_ Jaeger to talk shit about it.

“Here you are, sir,” Eren calls the dude’s name without looking at the cup, and you resist the urge to scoff. “ _Please_ , do tell us how it is.” It’s a challenge, and you know it. There should be laws about freedom of ass kicking in this country.

The man smiles before taking a sip, and he assures both of you that it’s fantastic – best damn cup of Joe he’s had in a long time. You pump your fist and grin. Eren’s demeanor sours. Maybe you don’t get a tip, but this is great, and you could almost leap over the counter and kiss that old man. Well, okay, there’s a hundred million things keeping you from doing that, but the fact is, you’re elated. Right when you’re about to rub the compliment in your antagonist’s face, your OCD manager walks in, and both of you straighten up, ready for the inquisition and brutal evaluation.

“Thomas, Franz.” Short-stack calls the other two on duty with you two first; a common procedure. He questions them about the day’s proceedings before moving his ‘totally-not-a-serial-killer’ gray gaze over to you and Eren.

Don’t lose your calm. It’s fine, everything’s fine. You can tell yourself this horse shit all day long, but the fact is, you and Eren are sweating. _Y_ _ou’re_ pretty damn sure Levi hates _you_ , and the only people keeping you from getting fired are Erwin, the big guy, and their mutual friend, Hanji. She—or he, or they, or whatever—came in at least once a week and babbled to you two about how the burly blond and the stocky shorty often discussed their most valuable, and simultaneously most volatile employees; that is to say, you and Eren. Levi’s almost done talking to Tom and Franz, shit on a stick, and your pansy ass clenches up like the huge baby you are.

“So.” You’re gonna die. That’s it. You hope your mom remembers to say nice things about you at your funeral. You imagine that Eren’s family will crack jokes about how stupid he was, at his. It kind of makes the fact that your manager is gonna tear you a new asshole half-okay. “Since they’ve told me the truth before you shitlings could lie about the day, what do you have to say for yourselves?” 

Eren snaps to attention and gives a wordy apology. You hate him for getting to it before you do, and stop your arm from going into a wimpy-ass salute. Groveling expertly, you try to soften his words and sheepishly nod your head in submission to Levi.

You conveniently forgot he didn’t give a shit, though. He proceeds to kick you – unfairly, totally uncalled for – and simply reprimand Eren. You know ocean-eyes is his favorite; _don’t even try to bullshit me, old man_. Glaring at your manager earns you another blow. He didn’t appreciate your tone, apparently. For a brief moment, you have the thought that he might get off on insubordination. It doesn’t matter, because he frightens you both back to the bar for clean up, and you both murmur apologies before getting to the job.

“Mr. Levi’s _insane_ ,” you mutter to your co-worker. Eren rolls his shoulders and narrows his focused eyes at a spot on the counter. After a beat, he turns to face you, in that infuriatingly serious manner of his. 

“He’s not so bad.” You’d forgotten that Eren was probably a huge gay and kind of a masochist. Asshole probably _wishes_ Levi had kicked him instead. You would’ve gladly traded places with him. “He knows what he likes.”

You promptly resist the urge to vomit because _ugh_ , there is nothing attractive about that sleep-deprived stubby little man. He’s got bags under his eyes and a scowl that should physically hurt, and you want to punch Eren for making you nauseated. You’ve wanted to punch him for less. With a scoff, you reply, “Yeah – a clean shop. So hurry up and move past that one spot, loverboy.”

Eren glares at you, and you snicker a bit. “Dick.”

“So I’ve been told,” you say.


	4. if you pretend hard enough, you can totally forget that you ever saw that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You really wish brain bleach was a real thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you guys.

For a while, things are pretty strange between you and Jaeger. You’re not sure whether Jaeger was coming out to you, or if he was just overprotective of homosexuals. Either way, you two don’t work together while stretching for the track team, and those oceanic eyes were glaring at you the few times he turned around in history class. After a couple weeks of strained tension, Coach tells you to apologize, and you know he’s right. It’s super awkward, pulling the new track star aside and trying to look him in the eyes, sincerely regretful for making things weird between the two of you. 

“Okay.” Eren accepts your apology without letting you face the private humiliation for too long. Actually, he accepts it so easily that you wonder if he was pissed the whole time, or if his face, as you’d suspected, was constantly stuck that way.

It’s nice to have somebody to talk to before class. _This_ time, you tread carefully, and ask Eren about himself, instead of just rambling on and on about your problems. He tells you that he has a sister, and his best friend – Armin, you actually remember that – keeps things pleasant between their little triad. You scoff – you’ve never seen anybody that looks remotely like him, and you asked if she was younger than the two of you.

He looks vaguely bewildered, and you feel nervous. When he speaks again, you feel like a grade-A moron. “What are you talking about?” His brow is furrowed in that super-scowl again, and you gulp. “Why the hell did you think I knew so much about Mikasa, anyways?”

Woah. Wait, _what the hell_? Okay, sure, Jaeger _never_ asked questions about your queen and goddess, the star of the girls’ wrestling team, the love of your life, but this was some _serious bullshit!_  You’d never even seen the two of them talk to each other, and the fact that he’d held off of telling you this for so long was like…breaking some rule of dude code! “Mikasa’s your _sister_?!” 

“Well, half-sister, but we’ve never cared about that kind of thing.” You want to _throttle_ Jaeger, not for the first time. He sounds so oblivious – living with _Mikasa_ , gorgeous beauty extraordinaire! He can’t even appreciate how wonderful and amazing she is, because he nags about her for nigh on fifteen minutes, and you kind of hate this guy’s luck. He goes on to tell you that he always left practice quickly because otherwise she would’ve bitched at him for days on end, and ratted to his mom that he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Apparently, he’d gotten known for that in sixth and seventh grade, and you can’t say you’re surprised.

Instead of asking all of your endless questions, you crack an insult at your classmate instead. “So, how’d you end up on the shallow end of the gene pool, Jaeger?”

“I’ll fuck you up, Jean.” When Eren makes threats like that, it’s a promise, and you can’t help but grin.

* * *

The second meet of the season makes you nervous.

You just barely made it to the competitive level this semester, and the coach is glaring at you with the force of a thousand suns. Eren isn’t very good in practice either, but when it comes time to actually _participating_ in a contest, he’s like a fiery canon, and he wipes the floor with the rest of the team. It’s pretty disgraceful, actually. He’s inspired you and the rest of the team to do better, if only to be one second faster than _him._  

The school you compete against, Sina, is pretty evenly matched against you guys. It’s a good match – Eren places third overall, and first in the 50-meter dash. His cross-country placement is below yours, but who cares? The two of you kicked ass, and it’s worth every bit of celebration. After the meet, everyone’s family clambers down the stands and they hurry to hug all of you. The girls were on the other side of the field, and they join you guys shortly. You don’t care, though – you’re far more interested in Eren’s family, which includes your goddess.

His mom is fussy and her eyebrows are, surprisingly, as thick as your teammate’s. You can’t help laughing as she rubs his grimy face with a towel, her son openly snarling at her. Mikasa comes over and she hugs him – Jesus, you’re jealous, and you remind yourself that she’s just his hot _sister_. Eren is scowling and swatting her off, too – stupid bastard, you think. 

“You did really well, Eren.” Mikasa’s voice is beautiful in your ears, and even though you can see _your_ mom coming over to fuss at you, you hope (in vain) that she won’t drag you away from this moment of bliss. “Do you want to go on extra jogs after practice to work on your long-distance time?” 

“I dunno, I’ll think about it.” You hate Eren Jaeger just a little bit more for denying more time with the model sister he has. As though he notices your practically tangible envy, he turns around and glares at you. You hold up your hands, and sheepishly wander over to him. Right when you’re about to open your mouth and insert your foot, your teammate breaks away from his mother and sister and swoops over to someone you think is blonde. 

You’re stuck introducing yourself. Mikasa, you think, seems interested in your awkward jokes, and Mrs. Jaeger is as lovely and sweet as her son is horrible and volatile. It’s refreshing, even if you find yourself unable to relax. The women in Eren’s family are as tan and lithe as Eren himself, and it’s sort of intimidating – they’re both taller than you, and that doesn’t help. Eventually, you excuse yourself to find your teammate – the two of you have to get ready to go to dinner, and your mom is probably looking for you, too. 

When you finally find Eren, at the top of one set of bleachers, he’s pressed close against his bubbly best friend, and you are frozen in shock. They’re both smiling and probably about to make out, so you nervously cough to get Eren’s attention. Eren glares at you, and you glare back – you don’t want to be interrupting this, either. Armin – you kind of fucking knew it was him – sheepishly smiled, kissing Eren on the cheek and encouraging him to make friends with his new team. Eren trails behind you, grumbling, and you try really hard to ignore his bitching. You make it to your mom, and she knows something’s the matter, but she’s in charge of driving both of you to the restaurant your team has agreed to meet at.

_Do you have some sort of problem with gay people?_

You’re seriously ill. Why did he have to spout all that bullshit, saying he wasn’t interested in anyone, and that Armin was just his best friend?

It’s incredibly difficult to act normal after that, so you settle for trading more insults with the new kid in the car.


	5. don't ask a question if you're not ready for the answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old friends are a blessing and a curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a fresh chapter, dudes. Thanks for the love so far!

His tan face is flushed – apparently his morning jog was just a little too long, so he had to hurry to the shower and run here in his nice clothes. There are people who would kill to be so attractive without trying. It's hard work to look gorgeous, and Jaeger's an anomaly, as usual.

You hate him.

"Whacking it in the shower, Jaeger?" You're in a bad mood, and you know you're taking it out on him. His glare is exactly as expected, and your lips twitch into a smirk. He's easy, as per usual.

"Don't fucking test me, Kirschtein." Eren runs his hands through his unruly hair. His skin always turns brown this time of year, and it makes his eyes even more prevalent. Your stomach turns when you think about the customers that will walk in here and gawk at him. Fuck them for increasing Jaeger's ego. "Where's Mr. Levi?"

"You're the one with a thing for Manager Short-Stack, not me." The kick that meets your shins hurts enough to make tears well in your eyes. " _Damn it_ , lay off! I was just shitting with you!"

"Didn't sound like it." Your co-worker is smug, turning the key in the cash register and checking the balance in the drawer to make sure nobody's lifting bills. The two of you work silently for a few minutes before some familiar faces trickle into the shop. You suddenly remember that  _shit, it_ _ **is**_ _the weekend,_ and a smile crosses your face easily.

Connie and Sasha are bickering about something, but their hands are still connected, so you know there's no real trouble in paradise. Behind them, Annie, Ymir, and Reiner – more friends from high school and college – are talking about the pros and cons of purchasing new computers. You and Eren stop hating each other long enough to chat them up while they order drinks.

"I see that you two get along as well as always." Reiner's not overly talkative, but he always sounds like he's insinuating something about you and fuckoff ocean-eyes. You hate that about him, but he  _is_  taking the edge off of your bad mood, so you suppose he's momentarily excused. He was on the football team in high school, and he's a burly guy, but he's got a good heart, so you're happy to see him looking healthy.

Connie, your old partner in crime, bumps fists with you and hollers. He elbows Eren too, rambling on and on about how much college classes suck. Sasha, next to him, drools and snaps about how hungry she is, and you laugh, offering to make her usual sandwich and dessert. She sighs and jabs her boyfriend, and he laughs, too. You hope they'll stay together forever.

Annie and Ymir simply nod at you – the former had been on the girls' wrestling team with Mikasa in high school, and the latter was in track with Eren and you in college. They're both pretty quiet – you get the feeling that they don't really like you – but that's okay.

Reiner drops a bomb, and you're momentarily terrified his words will ruin the mood. "So, how's Armin doing these days?"

Eren cocks his head. "He's good, I guess." You remember that he's an idiot with a sigh. "He went to some super-genius school up north, and he's kicking ass at it. I always told him he needed to get the hell out of this town."

"Ah." Reiner, thankfully, is  _not_  as dumb as a pile of bricks, unlike Jaeger. He catches on and changes the subject. You hope to high heaven he's not thinking what you think he's thinking. (You know it's stupid to dream.) "So, are you seeing anyone else?"

"Huh?" Eren's so  _stupid_ , you could cry. "Why'd you ask that?"

"I just thought, you know, surrounded by so many  _attractive_  people, something might've popped off, y'know?"

You hiss at Reiner. "Seriously, shut the fuck up."

"Alright, alright," The tall, burly blonde lifts his hands and laughs, giving up. They've all ordered, so you shoo them from the counter. While the five of your friends are standing around chatting, you and Jaeger are standing around making them coffee and snacks, and you let out a sigh of relief.

"What was all that about?" Eren asks you, and you want to sink into a hole and never see the light of day again. You  _do not_  want to be talking about this right now.

You hurriedly string words together. "You know, you and Armin were, like, a thing. He just wanted to know what was up. I know you don't have many friends, shithole, but  _I_  recognize friendship when I see it."

"A thing?" His brow is furrowed and you groan. You can't  _believe_  you're having this conversation. You take a moment to throw Reiner a nasty look over your shoulder. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

You sigh and look right at him, eager to get this conversation over with. "Eren, you're  _gay_. Maybe you're bi – whatever – but  _I_  knew about you two."

His look of disgust is so strong that you feel yourself growing nauseated, too. "That's so  _gross_." What? "He's my  _best friend_. He was touchy-feely and stuff. He liked kissing my cheeks because it made him feel safe – he told me so."

You don't know if you're confused or angry about Eren's obliviousness. "You seriously never got the vibe that he was into you? You just let that shit happen?" You and he have several cups of steaming coffee ready, and you deliver them before getting back to the food your friends ordered.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, Armin's gay, but I don't think he was ever into me like that." Eren's scowl is deep, and you want to punch this moron all over again.

"You're a dumbshit, Jaeger." You find yourself laughing breathlessly. This is actually ridiculous. "I can't believe you."

Eren growled, slamming the grill shut and narrowly missing your fingers, if only because you had the reflexes to dodge the hot plate. "Besides, what made you think I was gay? I don't think I've ever told you I was into  _anyone_ , male or otherwise."

He hadn't, but was he  _really_  that ignorant? You'd spent a long time thinking Armin and Eren were  _dating_ , and you  _thought_  you had evidence enough. Now that he's saying this, you're really confused.

Reiner winks suggestively at you, and you glare back at him. Since you already hate Eren so much, you figure you can spare a moment to hate your friend, if only for the period of time you two lock gazes.

Fuck Reiner. It's all his fault that you were suddenly thinking about weird things.


	6. ignorance sure is sweet, sweet bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're both fourteen and drunk. What did you expect?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all wonderful flatterers. ;)

Eren’s really protective of Armin and Mikasa. The former, he’s totally justified – even you think the blonde could fall over at any given time. The latter, you don’t actually get – now that you’ve had more opportunity to see your goddess in action, you know damn well that she could wipe the floor with both you and Jaeger without breaking a sweat. You know now that Eren’s _boyfriend_ is the one who convinced your ocean-eyed teammate to be nicer.

You were accidentally invited to dinner with the trio of old friends once. Armin smiled a lot, telling old stories of how often Eren got in trouble at school protecting him, or starting fights with teachers for no good reason. This year, he was moderately well behaved because the principal had threatened to ship him off to correctional school if he wasn’t. Eren wouldn’t be separated from his sister and his ‘best friend’ by anything less than death, so he got his act together. Well, sort of. 

At first, you welcome this excursion as a double date, but you get discouraged by Mikasa’s overall obsession with fussing over Eren, and paying absolutely zero attention to your brilliant jokes. In response to this kindness, you invite them over to one of Connie’s parties. Eren’s eyes lit up; Mikasa and Armin groaned. 

This is the _perfect_ opportunity for you to show your goddess your charms, and if you have to deal with Eren and his boyfriend making out in some dark corner, you think that maybe it’s all worth it.

* * *

You and Jaeger get invariably _plastered_. Marco tries to talk you out of chugging a keg in a competition against your teammate, but Connie’s hollering for you to do it, and you’re not one to back down from a challenge. Mikasa and Armin similarly try to stop Jaeger, but you’re both stubborn bastards, so you sit down at the bar at your keg, where the tap’s already prepared. Eren’s ocean-colored eyes are alive and you wish you were buzzed enough to really understand his intensity, but you won’t be until you get some of this beer into your system. Nobody asks where the booze came from – you all aren’t that stupid - but it feels good going down your throat, and damn, Jaeger can hold his liquor. You make a bitter joke about his last name and the alcohol it resembles, and your classmate giggles. Vaguely, you feel two people lift you up, and you think you can hear someone else dragging Jaeger to the same place, behind you. 

The room you two get dropped off in is dark, but not pitch black.  Eren looks disturbingly attractive in low lighting, and you hate yourself for thinking such a thing. He’s smiling and flushed, the two of you are insulting each other for the hell of it, and it’s actually nice. Well, that’s what drunk you thinks, anyways. You don’t know how or why the two of you end up fighting – maybe because it’s just what happens after you two are stuck staring at each other for long enough, but you start _touching_ after that. It’s kind of rough, but your skin is on fire, and you can tell, by the blush on Eren’s cheeks, that he can feel _something_ , too. 

You murmur, feeling strange. “Won’t Armin be angry? He’s your boyfriend, right?” You can’t stop your fingers from scratching his skin and reaching for the clasp of his belt anyways. Why waste time drunkenly feeling guilty about it? 

“Nah, he’s not,” Eren assures you, biting down on your ear and rutting against you. Your virginal mind twists this into the best moment of your life, and it feels good. You’re stupidly hard, and you hope his hands clumsily clawing at your pants means what you think it means. 

You give him a sloppy, shitty, _drunk_ hand job, and he reciprocates. It’s wrong, but it feels really great, and it’s all a blur. At least you’re both smart enough to clean yourselves up and zip your pants back up before passing out somewhere in Connie’s house.

* * *

You feel… _weird_ when you wake up, and you wish you could remember what had happened before you fell asleep.


	7. you never did get what you came for either, and that's a shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing you could've done to make yourself look more awkward was strip down to your underpants and sell balloons to children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update at the speed of light!

It's your day off, and you feel amazing. You're not only off of work, it's fall break, and you plan on doing a little shopping before you come back home and lounge in your boxers to play video games. You're going to hang with Marco for a day or two, maybe play something with him, but for the time being, you slip into a pair of jeans, throw on a shirt that smells clean, and yawn. You start up your car, and get ready to go to the mall. You need some new clothes for work and school – for life in general, really.

When you mill about the mall, you catch sight of a couple familiar faces.

Mikasa looks amazing, as always. In fact, she's gotten even  _more_  gorgeous than she was before. Fuck Eren for not inviting you over to his house more often. You're  _kind of_  over her –  _kind of_  in the way that you're not blindly chasing her around and trying to learn more about her, but if she expressed even a little interest in you, you would drop your life and fly her to France or Switzerland. She's next to Armin, who is still shorter than her, but his hair's grown out and pulled into a lazy ponytail. He looks good. You smile in their direction, waving nervously, and they walk over to you.

"You're not with Eren?" Stupid, shitty you. Why do you have to think about that asshole even on vacation? It was also weird of you to assume they were always together, even now, especially when you weren't really sure  _what_  had been between Jaeger and Arlert. You wish you had asked if Mikasa was still single instead.

"He wanted to sleep for a bit, so I drove Armin to the mall," Mikasa states in her blank way. So disinterested…but so,  _so_  hot. "He's in town for the week, since we all have the same break."

"Hey, Jean." Armin greets you like an angel, and you feel like such trash for wondering if he was still into Eren or not. You should be asking if he's won the Nobel Peace Prize yet, or whether he's dating some nice guy up north where that kind of thing is more acceptable. "You okay? You looked kinda off for a minute."

"Yeah, I'm fine." You're a fucking terrible liar. "You two wanna grab lunch or something?" Why are you even suggesting this? You're afraid you're gonna throw whatever you eat right back up.

Mikasa and Armin share a look, and you clam up, getting ready to excuse yourself with an apology before they nod in agreement. The three of you headed to the food court once you got your shit together.

It's actually…really nice. Catching up with them reminds you of high school, which you sort of miss since classes have gotten difficult. You're all supposed to be juniors this year, but you know good and damn well that you and Eren won't graduate in four years. They ask about the past couple of girls and guys you've dated, but you admit that your relationships petered out because of boredom. Remembering them made you exhausted, so you ask how things have been for them instead. The two of them have nothing but pleasant stories – of course they do, they've been stars for years. Mikasa might qualify to go to the Olympics in women's wrestling, and Armin's talking gibberish about his engineering project, which he 'thinks' is good enough to earn recognition. Mikasa butts in and chides the blonde, telling him not to forget that he had an internship lined up because of that project, with a well-known company.

You laugh bitterly. You're trapped in the suburbs with Jaeger, working at a locally owned coffee shop, scrambling to figure out what to do with your life. Surprisingly, Eren doesn't seem worried, even though you know he should be. That thought makes you feel even shittier, so you let it go.

"So, how are you and Eren?" Armin asks, and you're really,  _especially_  confused by this. You've spent the last seven years or so thinking him and Jaeger had been dating once, so getting your head wrapped around the fact that he is not, in fact, questioning you about his ex-boyfriend is weird.

"Fine, I guess," you admit, unsure of what to say. You wonder if this is the question of the year – asking what the fuck's up with you and Eren, when everyone knows there's nothing going on. "We haven't gotten into a fight in like…"  _Three days, seven hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds._  "Okay, we haven't gotten into a  _serious_  fight in like…five weeks."

"That's good to hear!" Armin's so sincere, and you feel like you've fucked up. There's some kind of miscommunication, and when he keeps talking, your stomach fills with dread. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but Eren really thinks a lot of you, Jean. I hope you can be patient enough with him to see that."

You're bewildered. You know Armin had the hots for his best friend once, but that doesn't give him an excuse for seeing Jaeger through such ridiculous rose-colored lenses. "You two sure do think the world of that bastard." Your language is foul, but they've come to expect this from you. You should at least rise to the occasion.

"Of course we do," Mikasa butts in. You're happy to hear her voice –  _always –_ but when she starts ranting about Jaeger, you feel like she can't shut up. She goes on to tell you how honest and earnest he is, throwing all of his passion into everything he does. You can't exactly refute this, because the bruise on the left side of your ribcage tells you that just fine. "Don't you?"

It's a test, and you're completely ready to fail it. "You know how I feel about Eren, Mikasa." You shrug and scowl. You feel like he's obnoxious mouth-breather with too much confidence and a loud mouth, but you two know how to work together without  _completely_  murdering each other. Deep down, you know that the two of you are similar, except that Eren's a stupid, naïve, ignorant kid about real-world issues, and you are way too cynical to deal with his happy endings. "We don't exactly look like picture-perfect 'friends', if you can call us that." All of that was code for,  _if I've told you I hate your brother once, I've said it like 8,195 times._

Armin looks disappointed. Mikasa looks like she doesn't care. You sigh a bit.

"Look, I'll see you two later, okay?" You cannot  _wait_  to get out of their space.Their expectations for you are crushing, and you suddenly remember why you don't hang out with Eren's friends. "I told somebody I'd meet them later today." You're a liar, and lying never felt so good.

"Take care, Jean," Armin says, smiling that weird smile of his. You're pretty sure you don't want to know what it means.


	8. almost popping a blood vessel every time you talk probably isn't good for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new year, a new school, and a new chance, but you manage to get stuck with the same people, doing the same things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surrender now, or prepare to fight! (Okay, enough of that.)

You and Jaeger are finally in high school, even if you both scrape by on the seat of your pants. Marco helped you, Armin helped him, and you're both racing around the track field after school again.

It's like nothing has changed, except that Eren has a beach tan, you have a gamer's pale glow, and he's gotten taller.  _Screw you, Jaeger,_  you think.

As though it's not already enough, the two of you are stuck in the same homeroom together. If god exists, he or she is cruel and ruthless.

When Eren calls you aside after practice, you just  _know_  he's got some political rant saved up from what you said in homeroom this morning, so you prepare yourself for the shouting match with Jaeger.

He leads with all of his usual existential bullshit that you tune out, and you key back in when it gets to the important stuff. You know, human rights, environmental issues – the fun topics. You're a stanch realist, and you aren't afraid to pull out scholarly articles to shove in his face as evidence. He's pretty good at doing his research too, so it's fair. You two are really only good at this shit. Sometimes, you think that this is the only reason Jaeger got interested in history – so he could properly debate you with authentic examples and not sound like an ignorant moron. You two bicker for  _hours_  at the ice cream parlor across the street from school. Connie works there, sort of, since it's his mom's shop, and he clicks his tongue at the two of you, asking you both to tone it down so you don't scare all their customers off. You apologize sincerely. Eren just glowers at him with enough intensity to set your friend on fire.

"Jesus, dude." Connie holds up his hands in surrender. "Chill out."

"Shut up, Connie," Eren half-growls. You know he isn't trying to be an asshole, but it's so hard not to punch him. Mikasa calls Eren as the sun goes down, right on the tail end of a discussion about abortion. He isn't very happy with her, and you don't understand why he can't just shut up and listen to his hot sister for once. You don't realize you said that aloud until your teammate grimaces. Eren's face always twists into disgust when you compliment her.

You're not sure if it's because of how weird it is for a guy to compliment another guy's sister (you don't have siblings), or because Eren is gay. It's probably both, but you smartly drop the subject and let Mikasa drag him away kicking and screaming. Connie's mom lets him sit next to you after Eren's gone, and you sigh in relief.

"What's his problem?" Connie's bald this year; you notice that all of the sudden. Maybe it's gonna be his new thing.

You sigh. "I dunno. Usual Eren shit, I guess. You ask him a simple question, he goes off the fucking deep end." Connie laughs sympathetically, and then slurps his drink obnoxiously. There's something eating at you, something you haven't even told Marco yet. You're not sure Connie's the best guy to be telling this to, but he's pretty close to you, and you trust him, even though he  _can_  be kind of a blabbermouth. "Also, he may or may not be dating Armin Arlert."

"Who?" Good old oblivious Connie. You go on to describe the blonde, and your friend looks dumbfounded. "Dude, like – a  _dude_? I mean, that's fine and all but it's sort of…"

"Weird, right?" You're glad you talked to him about this first. Marco would probably berate you for being close-minded, but you can't help how you feel. Connie  _understands_ , in the same way Marco wouldn't. "I try not to let it bother me most of the time, but I saw them, I dunno, kissing or something, once last year."

Connie sticks out his tongue and you laugh. "Gross, dude. You could've spared me the mental picture."

You rest your chin on your left palm, elbow resting on this uncomfortable wooden table. "Anyways, what's weirder is that, on the rare occasion I try to ask Jaeger about it – to the clear the air, y'know – he acts like he doesn't have the slightest fucking clue as to what I'm on about." Connie nods, so you go on. "It's like…does he trust me or not?"

Connie throws you this look. "I was kinda under the impression that Eren hated you."

That… _sucks_ , actually. You were under the impression that you were…well, not exactly enemies, but maybe half-friends? He drives you crazy with all of his self-important rants, you're constantly trying to one-up him, and you two yell way more than you chat. Maybe all of that stuff  _does_  constitute hatred – it's a strong word, but it sounds better than 'two people who aren't friends, want to give each other black eyes, and come back for more again tomorrow'. At least you could put  _some_ kind of description to the weird… _whatever it is_  you had with him. "I don't exactly think he's shitting daisies either."

"So, what's there to whine about? Just tolerate each other enough to get out of here, and you'll probably never see each other again. High school only lasts four years. Maybe you'll keep brawling or debating every once in a while, but he'll leave you alone when he gets bored, right?"

That's the scary thing – Jaeger's  _never_  bored, and he never lets anything go.

You're starting to feel like you'll be stuck with the angry, ocean-eyed menace for life, and that pisses you off more than his dumb tan and his sudden popularity in high school.


	9. best friends are people who you love, even when you kinda wanna kill them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco calls you out on your bullshit, but at least he's nice about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another double update! If I'm reallllly feeling good, I may upload a third chapter at the end of the day. It is Friday, after all. ;)

Your fingers are sweaty on the keyboard and your headset itches. The online battle is a lost cause, so you bid your farewells to the other dudes on the site and sigh. Right as you're signing off, your phone rings, so you scramble to find it in the mess that is your bedroom. When you read the caller ID, you give a casual greeting.

It's Marco - perfect, wonderful human being. He is a scholar and a saint, and you're happy to hear that your best friend is waiting for you on the porch. You let him into the house, casually apologize for the mess – although you don't really mean it – and fall into your beanbag with a thud. You actually want to congratulate yourself for not tripping, because you've done it before, and even your super-nice, freckled best friend from the second grade laughed at you for that.

"How have you been, Jean?" He smiles, settling next to you and reaching for the other controller. "Having a good break?"

"It's been pretty good." You have work tomorrow, but the past two days of sleeping in and doing absolutely nothing have been blissful. You tell Marco that you ran into Mikasa and Armin the other day, and that every day where you don't have to see Eren is heaven. He laughs. Thank god. It's good to know you can still trust one person in this world not to ask you weird questions about the co-worker you hate.

It's so simple to hang out with him – he doesn't bother you, and he just  _gets_  you. He's nice and encouraging, and when you two talk serious business, it doesn't make you feel like a five year old. Marco understands you better than you understand yourself sometimes. You thought you might've been interested in him once, but that was a stupid moment of delusion, and now the thought of dating your best friend makes you want to vomit in your mouth.

When he starts on the same shit that everyone else seems to be on these days, you are noticeably floored. So much for having one person you could trust.

"How are things with Eren?" Okay, sure, he's brought this topic up before – he's always thought that you and Jaeger have acted a little strange towards each other, but you figured he'd have gotten the clue that you two don't along by now.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" You're kind of offended, actually. Why  _is_  everyone under the assumption that the two of you are like, a  _thing_? "There never  _was_ , nor ever  _will be_  anything between Jaeger and me."

Marco, unlike Reiner, backs off after you say that, smiling in that way that's kind of like he's pitying you and giving up. It makes you swallow nervously. Way to go. Shittiest best friend of the year award goes to you, Kirschtein. You ask him what's up in his love life instead, and he says there's some nice girl at college he's seeing, so you congratulate him. It makes you feel better, sort of. Before Marco leaves, hours later, he gives you that awkward guy hug, and then chides you happily. "Don't you think it's time that you stopped trying to convince yourself that you hated Eren, Jean?"

No, you goddamn don't, because you  _still_  hate Eren. "I dunno…it's not that easy to stop hating the prick, Marco."

"Denial isn't healthy, Jean." God, what the  _fuck_? Marco smiles at you again, devil in disguise, what the hell is he even  _talking_  about? "Maybe if you tried to talk to him without starting a fight, you'd figure out you like Eren more than you thought. You guys were pretty close once, right?"

When was this? Because you're pretty sure these past seven years, all you've done is complain about Jaeger. Marco's got a brain full of misconceptions. "Not really." You shrug, trying to shuffle and change the subject.

"All I'm saying here is: don't you think it's time that the two of you started acting like adults?" He wouldn't let it drop without a word of wisdom, and you instantly feel guilty. Yeah, yeah, you know, alright? It's past time to stop bitching around and getting into petty fights with Jaeger, but it's just so  _easy_. Fuck him for pulling the 'be the bigger man' card on you. "All that misplaced aggression  _can't_  be good for you."

"I'd stop if he would," you admit with petulance. There's not a snowball's chance in hell that's gonna happen, though.

"You really mean that, Jean?" Marco twitches one eyebrow, and you snort.

"Yeah. Good fucking luck telling Jaeger that, though." This whole conversation is becoming a joke to you. "Have a safe drive home, yeah?"

His brown eyes gleam and you're kind of scared for your sanity. "I will. See you later, Jean!"

When a text comes to your number much later, your stomach fills with anxiety.  _Marco told me to try to talk Eren into avoiding fights with you. Are you two in trouble with the law or something?_  It's Mikasa, and your nervousness has nothing to do with the fact that a beautiful woman is texting you.

 _No,_ you type back after a few minutes, fingers shaking a little.  _He's just worried about something stupid. Don't worry about that._

Your phone beeps after a few more minutes.  _I already started, though._  Fuck. The universe is absolutely conspiring against you and it sucks.  _Should I tell him it was just a joke or something?_

 _That'll just piss him off even more_. You wish you had tomorrow off, suddenly.  _I'll deal with it._

_Okay._

You throw your phone onto the bed and flop down with a groan.

Marco's such a well-meaning asshole.


	10. it should be called 'bittersweet sixteen' instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least you _remember_ the party this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, thank you guys for the support. It just absolutely makes my day, and I hope you guys continue to enjoy this fic!

When sophomore year rolls around, you're getting ready for your sixteenth birthday and making a fantastic guest list. You still crush on Mikasa on and off, but you have better things to do with your life now, like focusing on beating Jaeger's record, getting laid with someone who actually knows that you exist, and passing Trigonometry. You talk to Marco about your confusion with Eren's sexuality sometimes, and he thinks there may be more to it than just simple homophobia. You tell him that you're not  _scared_  of gay people – you just don't  _get_  them.

So, when there's this  _really_  cute girl, probably on swim team – you assume so because she's got broad shoulders and a winsome smile – you trip over yourself to get to know her. You two date for a bit, but you're exhausted more than you're actually  _happy_ , so you break it off before things get too serious. You also felt kind of  _uncomfortable_  with spending so much time with her.

The creepiest thought you had, in the brief months you were seeing her, was that you would've preferred for Eren to be kicking your ass from here to next Tuesday instead of listening to her rant on and on about girly stuff that wasn't important. At least Jaeger actually cared about, you know, deep shit.

Anyways, the party is finally green-lit. Your parents let you have the house to yourselves (a terrible idea, really), and Connie helps you decorate before company files in to trash the place. People come with booze, hookahs, other drugs of less legal methods, and you're pumped. You're ready to have your sixteenth birthday party in full swing. You blast music the whole evening while people start to drink and smoke, mingling and dancing. Some people chat, getting a feel for whether the person they're sitting next to is really worth the drunken one-night stand.

At some point in the hazy evening, you remember talking to Armin. He says something about how Eren doesn't know how to come to terms with his emotions, especially because he feels them so strongly, so they end up misplaced. You're not really sure why he's bitching about his relationship to  _you_ , so you just smile and nod, totally sloshed. Whatever. Not your problem.

Marco pushes you off of him gently after you've mumbled the kind of things that happy drunks mumble. "I love you, man. I seriously mean it. You're great." Compliments keep tumbling out of your mouth, and you mean every one, even if you won't remember saying a single thing in the morning. Eventually, you're carted back to a room that's probably yours, after the responsible teenagers at this party have the decency to clean up behind themselves. You're reminded of the party when you were fourteen, and the smoky tenderness of the intimacy you had there. You dreamt about that sometimes. It was the perfect sort of fantasy to insert whichever girl you were into lately.

For some reason, when Eren stumbles in, he flicks the light switch on, and you hiss. "Fuck you," you mumble without much energy, shutting your eyes more tightly. You just want to be asleep. "Who invited you, anyways?"

" _You_ did, asshole." Your classmate kicks you and you don't even fight back. "You invited the whole team, remember?" He does both of you the immense favor of cutting off the light.

For whatever reason, you end up talking about bitter dreams for the future with him. It's kind of nice, because neither of you have the energy to yell, and it's easier to forget that you're a total tool and Eren's got a stick up his ass when you're both quiet. You manage to ask him something about Armin. He sounds kind of upset, so you worry that you messed up, but he manages some mangled words.

"He's growing up, you know? I'm starting to realize he's strong enough to get by without me." You know it's different, because he's probably talking about a potential break up with his long-time boyfriend, but you've had a similar realization with Marco, just weeks ago. "It sucks."

"Yeah," you agree. "I hope you two are still friends, whether things work out or not. You don't have many, loser."

He laughs a bitter laugh that makes you join him. "You're the last person I want to hear that from, Kirschtein." The two of you brush hands, but you don't have the energy to get freaked out. Eren looks right at you and murmurs, "Happy birthday, horse-face."

"When you say that, it feels kinda gross. Take it back."

"It's midnight anyways, sucker. Your birthday's over anyways, so just shut the fuck up and accept my shittiest congrats." You hate the feeling that bubbles into your chest at his crass remark. You hate him, and Marco's words about your strange obsession with Jaeger leave a bad taste in your mouth all of the sudden. You laugh and slap him weakly so you can stop thinking and go the fuck to sleep.


	11. silence isn't golden and you're trying hard not to scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's being _nice_ , and that's not in their unspoken rulebook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another double whammy today. Finally past the halfway mark, phew!

Jaeger's being really quiet, and it's  _really_  freaking you out. What the hell did Mikasa say? You look at him and scrunch up your nose, completely and utterly confused.

The scary thing is, he doesn't try to start a fight with you, talk about your managers, or anything. He's focused on his every task of making coffee, and it's  _weird_. You're surprised that you even manage to make it through an hour of this shit before you finally break the tense shift by talking to him. "Jaeger." His head turns softly, and you notice for the first time that he's got new piercings. You try to remember to be nice, since he's obviously doing this whole thing as a favor to Mikasa, and not because he's suddenly stopped hating you. "Nice, uh, haircut." The earring comment would be way too weird, so you stumble and fail, and then you hate yourself, because you know (from your last fight) that he's growing it out.

His lips twist into a grimace. "You really  _are_  feeling bad, god. Take the day off if something's eating you."

You hold back a snarl, and then blink. Hey now, that's not fair. Nobody gave permission for the bluntest human in existence to actually be  _careful_  about your emotions. You look at him grimacing at you, and you let out a sigh. "Look, I'm fine, Jaeger." Him being nice to you has you all off-balance, and you hate it. "I don't need your pity, and I'm not made of glass, goddamn."

His thick eyebrows rise over his ocean eyes, and you're so  _pissed_  because he looks oblivious, as always. "Who the hell is pitying you, Kirschtein?"

You're going to lose it. You wipe your hand on your face and grate the words out of your clenched teeth. "So, what do you call this, then?"

He cocks his hand on one hip – you're going to  _kill_  him, and he can die with his arrogance wrapped in a pretty bow around his  _neck_. "I'm  _trying_  to be nice." Doesn't sound like it, asshole. "You grieve when people die, right? Mikasa said you were all upset over a relative's passing, so I'm not gonna make fun of you. It happens."

Seriously? That was her excuse? You're going to scream. "Look, Jaeger, nobody in my damn family died. For some reason, the universe is trying to conspire to get us to stop hating each other, but that's never going to happen."

"Who said I hated you?" Your head whirred around so quickly, you thought you might've snapped your neck. Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. He's blinking those fucking  _eyes_  again, and the sudden warmth of your cheeks disgusts you.

"Well, I mean, what the fuck else was all the fighting about? It's obvious we're not knocking back beers on Friday evenings together, and you're always trying to piss me off."

"Yeah, but that's because if I didn't rile you up, you'd never tell the fucking truth. You're a habitual liar, and you always try to act so cool, but it's all fake." Why does he know all of this so well?

"God, shut up, you're creeping me out!" Yeah, yell it out. It's solved all of your problems before.

"See?" Jaeger notes, pointing at you as if to say,  _I told you so_. "When we're fighting, you're honest. Don't you feel better, prick?"

You feel a million times worse, because you didn't know you were so transparent, and you don't want to admit that he's right –  _again._


	12. puberty is just one awkward discovery after another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's not a single chance in hell that you like dudes - not after that. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the love, you guys. ;)

It's junior year, and you're finally in a girl's bedroom. She's got olive skin, hazel eyes, and  _experience_. You remember the pain and sacrifice it took to get here – days of trying to figure out how to balance your friendship with Marco, your already terrible studies, track practice, dinner with your family, and  _her_  – but this is the payoff. Well, you think so, anyways. Her mouth is all over you, and you're turned on, but it's kind of weird. You're hypersensitive, but you're not sure where to touch – girls look different, and you know they care about different things than guys. At least, that's what your friends and teammates have told you.

When her mouth goes down on your dick, everything is bliss, and you want to praise the heavens. You cry out stupid things in desperation, and you come too fast, but she's patient, and you love that about her. She doesn't want to go any further though, and you think that's fine – totally cool, the best, even; you respect that, yeah. It hurts when she breaks up with you before that, but now that you've gotten a taste of what  _could_  be, you can't just stop searching.

What catches you totally off guard is that there's some really mousy guy in track team that keeps staring at you. You're smiling and trying to charm the ladies at yet another party. People surround Jaeger without his conscious effort, and you can't decide if you hate him or want to join him. You feel that kid's stare at your back, and you walk over after yet another failed attempt to get a girl to date you. He laughs at your stupid jokes, and it makes you feel sorta weird.

You consult Marco about it the following day, and he tells you that you're probably attracted to dudes. No way, you say, you made it to like, third base last month, with a  _girl_ , and you couldn't get it up for another dick if you tried.

That kid manages to corner you after a meet. He holds your hand probably a little too long, so you sputter and turn red. You make it to the bathroom, and you're messed up. That kid's words ring in your ear.  _You were amazing out there, Jean!_

No. No way.

You ask Jaeger to punch you when he walks into the bathroom a few minutes later. He doesn't hesitate, and you're grateful.

* * *

Junior year is going to come to an end without you getting laid, and you're trying  _very_  hard to forget that whole experience with your mousy teammate. You don't even know what you're going to do with your life, and Marco backs off of the whole  _you're probably bisexual_  issue to give you time to think. It comes to your realization, suddenly, that you haven't seen Mikasa frequently for a year or so now, and you haven't seen Armin, either. It's a sign that at least you're moving forward; you're not spending all of your time trying to figure out how Jaeger's friends fit into the messy equation of  _your_  life. They're probably polishing their medals and getting ready to go to whichever schools will offer them the most money, anyways.

Jaeger, your fellow lazy bastard, is crouched on the lawn outside of the school, and you find yourself lying in the grass near him. "Say." You don't know why you're talking about  _anything_  with him, not really, but the words are tumbling out of your mouth regardless. "Why is it so hard to get girls to like me?"

"Because you're a two-faced bastard," Eren remarks casually, digging a stick or something in the dirt. "You'd probably get laid if you didn't smell like a wet dog, too."

Anger burns in your chest, and you resist the urge to fight him, yet again. Neither of you need another in-school suspension. "So why're you such hot stuff? You don't even like girls."

"Correction: I don't like anyone." Whatever, get to the point. "I'm not afraid to call people out on their bullshit, and I don't try to trick people into thinking I'm not an asshole. That's our biggest difference."

"You're blowing smoke up my ass," you remark. You should've known better than to ask Jaeger for advice, or anything remotely in that strain.

"Who the fuck cares? I hear some people are into guys that look like criminals nowadays, so maybe your chances aren't completely ruined." You growl, but you're too lazy to throttle him, and he laughs his stupid, broken laugh.


	13. whoever said 'dreams are a window to the subconscious' just hasn't had the right nightmare yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now it's time to panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably one of my favorite chapters to write. Thanks again you guys. Enjoy! ;)

Your hands tangle in his hair before you slam his face into the cement. He has a bloody nose and a scar under his left ear (remotely, you think that it must hurt to get blood in fresh piercings), but he proceeds to punch you hard enough to break your nose in retaliation. He crouches across you once you're floored and the weird thing is, he's staring. You don't get it. His tan face is all flushed and he leans over, licking his busted lips –  _what the fuck_  is he up to?

He bites you, and you snarl back, but once your tongues get entangled, you can't yell any more. His hair is a shitty, greasy mess, but he grinds against you and you make a satisfied noise into his mouth. It's good, it's  _too_  good, even though you can taste the nasty iron on both of your breaths and you don't have the slightest fucking clue why this is happening.

Well, you  _don't_  until your eyes fly open, you're breathing really hard, and the tent in your pants is undeniable truth. You hurry to the bathroom, make sure cold water is spraying, and think unsexy thoughts. When you hurry out of the shower, limp again, you pick up your phone and dial your best friend's number with trembling hands.

"I need you to write my last will and testament." You're being overdramatic, you know, but  _Jesus Fucking Christ_ , this is kind of a big deal.

"God, Jean, what time is it?" Marco sounds half-asleep, and you only realize it's like four in the fucking morning when he says this. You apologize, and he yawns. "Well, I'm awake now. What's wrong?"

You swallow to parch your dry throat. You stutter and stumble, but you hope that what comes out of your mouth is some intelligible form of,  _so I had this incredibly awful dream just now._

"You're kidding me." Marco groans. He's seen right through you—there's no way you'd call him about your everyday nightmare. "Something obviously happened that freaked you out. Hurry up and tell me before I hang up."

"I may have, uh."  _Shoot me, shoot me now, it'd be easier_. "Had, you know. One of  _those_  dreams." Marco's patiently listening – what a good friend – but you kind of wish he would crack a joke so you could just forget about this and move on with your life. "About, uh, someone."

"So, you had a wet dream." He's so deadpan – what the fuck, stop being so calm. "Aboooout?"  _Don't drawl the damn 'o'; it's making me nervous_.

"Uh…" You're taking too long to answer. "Don't laugh, okay!" You just want to disappear. Why did you even call Marco to talk about this anyways? Finally, you whisper shamefully. "It may have been with…you know…someone I've known for a long time."

"Eren, huh?" Jesus, you hate Marco so much. "It's about time, honestly, if you ask me."

"No, it's never time – I'm kind of  _freaking out here_!" Yeah, you're hyperventilating, so what? "I've never wanted to do that kind of shit with  _him_  – he's gross and annoying and I hate him!"

"Why are you even trying to lie to me about this?" Marco chides you. You feel  _kind_  of guilty.

"I'm not lying," you lie again. "I really  _don't_  think of Jaeger that way, so the fact of the matter is, this is  _kind of freaking me out_ , and I really need your help." Okay, that was the truth. Mostly.

"Look, Jean, your subconscious isn't crazy. It's rooted in  _some_  kind of desire you actually have." You groan lowly, and he clicks his tongue. "It's perfectly natural for you to like Eren. The two of you are very similar people, and he's a good looking guy."

"How on  _earth_  are we alike?" You agree (begrudgingly), but you  _are_  genuinely interested to hear what he has to say about it. Your voice may or may not have cracked out of panic, too.

"You're both pretty serious people, even if you're a cynic and he's not. You like the same things, you get along with the same people, and you both like to fight, for some dumb reason. He probably likes you too, in his own weird way, but he's not very good at sorting his emotions into categories – he just  _feels_  them." You're not too sure about the fact that Jaeger could be into you, but you admit to yourself that he's right about the rest of it. "Why don't you just ask Eren out and see how it goes?"

"No fucking way." That much you know for sure. "Not a chance in hell that's happening."

"Even if you might finally lose your virginity?" You practically  _hear_  his eyebrows waggling over the phone. Low blow, Bott.

"It's not…it isn't like that, okay?" What kind of jerkass does he think you are, just asking people out to get laid? Even you're not that stupid.

"Well then, that's even more reason to ask. You want it to be serious." You fell right into his trap, and you make an annoyed noise back at him. "There's no harm in trying."

"That's what you said about Mikasa, too," you tell him, feeling kind of shy about this whole ordeal.

"Jean, we were fourteen, and I said a lot of things." True enough. "Good luck, okay? I'm going back to sleep."

"Yeah, alright. Sorry about everything." The line goes silent, and you lie in your bed, unable to relax. You feel your face heat up when you vaguely remember how sexy the sweaty Jaeger in your dream was.

You hate him so fucking much, and all you want to do is sleep forever.


	14. growing up isn't any fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe everything's going to be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredibly short, apologies. I'm just gonna go ahead and tack 15 up here too. u.u;;

Senior year of high school is a joke. Freshman year of college is an even bigger joke. Throughout it all, you're stuck with Jaeger, who is the biggest joke of all.

There are two good things you can actually remember from that period of time. One, you finally surpassed his track record. ( _Once_ , but that still counts.) Two, your GPA was .1 point higher than his upon graduation. (Petty, but important.)

Jaeger has a tearful parting with his sister and his ex-boyfriend-slash-best-friend, and you have one with Connie, Connie's new girlfriend, Sasha, and Marco. Neither Eren nor you move out of home, because college is so close, but you are  _so, so_  ready to. The only thing keeping you sane is your car, your job, and your friends.

Eren looks lost and lonely, roaming around campus, and when you bump into him, you're actually pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face. Even if the two of you butt heads and bump elbows, you have two classes together, and you refuse to admit that you're happy about that.

Sometimes, the two of you bar hop and party together, and the people around you praise your ability to hold liquor. You remember telling someone that the first time you had a chugging contest with Jaeger, you were fourteen. They laughed, and you laughed too.

For the first time in your life, you find yourself openly curious about more than just girls. Eren may or may not be heartbroken over his blonde childhood sweetheart, but  _you're_  going to finally make an impression on people in college, and the first step to doing that is dealing with this bout of internal denial. You date guys and girls, but nothing ever lasts more than a month, and you can't figure out why people just don't love you. It hurts, so sometimes you call Marco to drunkenly wax poetic to him, and he lets you ramble while he studies for his nursing classes.

Jaeger asks you for a book for one of the classes you have together one day, and you let him borrow it for the night. He actually  _smiles_  for the first time in ages, and he's not staring at his phone. Then, when you realize that he can pick himself up and figure this whole adulthood thing out, you can too.


	15. you were terrible at finding hiding places as a kid, too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can only run for so long.

You valiantly avoid physical contact with Jaeger for a good three weeks. You make your work schedule so that the two of you don't work together very often, and when you do see each other at the shop, you grunt or ignore him entirely so you don't horrendously embarrass yourself. Even on campus, you take the stupid routes through buildings that nobody takes, just so that the possibility of running into him decreases. He finally corners you right after track practice one afternoon, and he's snarling. You get justifiably nervous.

"What the fuck's your problem, Kirschtein?" You, you want to say, and hold your tongue.

"Nothing. Everything's perfectly fine, fuckface." What a terrible insult. What the hell  _is_  the matter with you?

"So you just avoid me when everything's perfectly fine, huh?" Shit, he's so fucking  _close_. You can smell the sweat and raw heat rolling off of his body. You hate the betrayal of your body that wants you to pull him close and have him maybe fuck your face. No, okay, way too weird, you fuck his? Shit,  _shit_ , you're burning up, and you're trying really hard not to look at him. "Look at me, you asshole!"

"It's just – shit, can you back off?" You want to run. No you don't, you want to kiss the shit out of him, but the fact that you want to do that freaks you out a lot, so you mostly want to run away.

"If I do, you'll run away, won't you?" Damn him for being right. You weakly pushed at his chest. When did you two get to be the same height, anyways? "Seriously, what the fuck is the matter with you?!"

"Why do you even care?!" You yell, finally losing it and grabbing his collar. You kind of hope you spit in his face by accident. "Shit, this would be easier if you didn't! You're my problem, Jaeger! There's a lot bothering me. I hate you, and you  _always_  piss me off, and I don't really understand why I'm thinking about asking you on a date, or kissing you, and that pisses me off even more, so I'm avoiding you! That's what's the matter with me, okay! That's fucking it."

His eyes widen, and you know you fucked up. You knew you fucked up as soon as you started spilling your guts, and you've never wanted to run away from him more in your life. "Shit, really?"

"No, no, seriously, I was just fucking with you." You're a horrible liar, this is a terrible excuse, and you know that you didn't sound convincing, not even to yourself.

"Jean, seriously, look at me." Eren sounds exasperated. When you do look, his ocean eyes look kind of expectant, and the breath flies out of your lungs. "You wanna go on a date and kiss me?"

So unfair. Fuck you, Jaeger. Bitterly, you quietly admit, "Yeah."

He kisses you on the mouth, and it's not even a nice kiss, but it makes you happy – not that you'd ever admit that to him. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Finally, it's happened to me, right in front of my face and I just cannot hide it." - ~~ancient proverb~~ by CeCe Peniston
> 
> Seriously, guys, thank you again. 5 more to go.


	16. you wouldn't call it jealousy, per se

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started off as such a nice date, too.

Reiner introduced you to this girl and she's your type – really sweet, smart as a whip. The two of you start talking about school –  _ugh_  – but then move on to what she wants to do for a living. She's interested in the entertainment business – film in particular – and it's a nice change from the constant grind of poli-sci and your infuriating co-worker. It turns out that she's looking into a really nice internship and it makes you feel shitty about yourself. You play it off, though. When she asks  _you_  about work, you find yourself grumbling about Jaeger, falling into an easy routine. She smiles and slyly comments that you got pretty animated.

Of course you did. Dumb bastard is like, public enemy number one. You can't believe you don't see the signs. You've met girls who are into Eren, but she really, seriously seemed to care about you and your opinion of him, so you let her weird questions slide.

Near the end of the night, when you're about to tell her that you had a great time and kiss her goodbye on her cheek, she makes a comment that makes you cringe. "You know, when you act jealous over him, it's kinda cute!"

She probably thinks you two are something _–_   _eww_  – or otherwise, she wants in his pants. Either way, this is all his fault.

You sigh. It probably wasn't meant to work out anyways.


	17. you're both hopelessly new at this and it shows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How on _earth_ do people date without going crazy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry both of the chapters this morning are so short, but I want to save 18 & 19 for tomorrow, and 20 for the day after as the finale. We're almost finished! Thanks again, hope you enjoy this chapter! C:

No, you aren't both fidgeting like two stupid kids at a restaurant in your finest dressy casuals on your first date.

Okay, so what if you are.

You two are so awkward at first that you forget you've known him for years. Then, once you finally convince yourself that it's fine to joke with him like you always have, you fall into a natural routine. You both have a couple beers and fling food at it each other, and it's  _fun_. You actually have a good time out with Jaeger. It isn't the  _first_ time – not exactly – but it  _is_  the first time you've really acknowledged it.

* * *

You two were so physical for so long, but he's surprisingly hesitant about touching you. Instead, he suggests that you hang out more often, and you agree a bit too eagerly. You go to his house, he goes to yours. You start carpooling to work, and your managers look so fucking smug that you're angry.

It's months – literal  _months_  before you tussle a while with Jaeger over something pointless, he kisses your mouth hard enough to bruise, and you can't help but moan back.  _This_  is what you've been missing, this is why you couldn't hold down a long-term relationship, and you wonder how you could've been so fucking oblivious. He's a biter – just like you thought, really – and it's fantastic. He bites everywhere – your lips, your ears, your neck, your chest, your thighs – and you squirm into his touch. You want more – Jesus, you  _need_  it – and Eren Jaeger is a fucking tease.

"Stop  _worshipping_  me and make a move, shithead." You accentuate this by ripping his button-down off and palming his pants.

"Maybe I want to, you dick." He's breathless – breathless over  _you_  – and you buck up so your hips grind together. God, you're both hopeless, hopeless virgins, and you want die of shame when you come in your pants. He laughs at you, but he doesn't talk smack. Actually, he kisses you again, frees Kirschtein junior from your pants, and you twitch back into action. "I came too."

Shit. A laugh bubbles out of your nose, and you can't  _wait_  to see this. You're partially self-conscious, and it turns out you were right to be, because he's bigger than you. But he's a fucking mess, and so are you, so you just keep laughing.

Stupid, beautiful bastard with his thick, dark hair and blue-green eyes. His hair is dark around his navel and down to his prick too, and you hate the fact that you find that unbelievably sexy. You give each other messy hand jobs, and sure, you can't really breathe, but you're smiling and slapping each other on top of jerking each other off, and you don't know why you didn't do this sooner.

He doesn't give a single fuck that you've both made a horrendous mess out of his sheets, and that his ass and dick are out for all the world to see. You zip up, just in case – you can never be too careful – but you think that kind of shamelessness is just like him.

"I had a dream we did something like this, once," Eren says, fingers twirling in your hair. You concentrate very hard on not letting the movement either turn you on or lull you to sleep. "Weird, huh?"

"Maybe it was déjà vu," you offer. What you can't admit yet is that you've had similar dreams. Maybe you'll be able to tell him, someday.


	18. sometimes you wonder if he gives himself a headache trying to keep up with all of his own bullshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can read Jean like one long, awkward, disastrous book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Eren chapter, at long last.

You've known Jean since the eighth grade, and you've always thought he was kind of a creepy bastard. Always going on and on about Mikasa without asking you whether you actually gave a shit to listen, and then elbowing you at track practice like it's the 'macho' thing to do.

Armin likes to hug and touch and stuff, and you're used to it, so fighting with Jean comes naturally. Your bodies press together when you wrestle, your hands are clasped when you fight, and the boundless energy you have afterwards is refreshing. You don't know why it feels different from your blonde best friend, but it does.

Jean's a fucking liar, and apparently, you're the only one brave enough to call him out on his bullshit with a knuckle sandwich. He's got a good head on his shoulders, if only he'd be self-confident enough to actually  _use_  it. You think he's a moron for lowering his standards, because he's better than this. He has things that you don't, and he won't showcase his talents because he's a fucking loser that thinks you have to be a certain type of person to fit in.

He wastes his time pining over Mikasa, then some other girl, and then  _many_  girls. Armin tells you to stop bitching about it and do something, so you do the only thing you know how to do – you raise your fists, you yell, and you tear Kirschtein's hair out. Your best friend tells you that that isn't really what he meant, but you feel better afterwards, so who cares.

Jean is in denial about his own feelings. He's a self-righteous moron who thinks being gay is against 'the rules' (whatever the fuck those are supposed to be), and you aren't impressed. When years pass, he gets better because he finally figures out,  _goddamn, being attracted to the same sex doesn't make you an alien_. He still gets on your nerves because he parades around like he's king of the fucking coop, and his laziness is the only thing stopping him from changing important shit in the world. He's always making baseless assumptions about you and your friends, and you're sick and tired of it. You two are so alike, but you hate that he lets himself wallow in self-pity instead of figuring himself out. If he'd stop worrying about you three, he might stand a chance.

Armin isn't one to tell you how to feel, but he's pretty sure you like Jean. You argue that as a fundamental person, Jean's a jackass, but you guess when he's actually genuine, he's not half-bad. You're not really interested in romance, and people in general get on your nerves, but you've let him in your circle now, so that has to count for something.

He starts to open up to the idea of his bisexuality, and you think it's an excellent thing for him. Maybe he'll stop being such a shut-in little boy from suburbia and actually expand his horizons for once in his pitiful life. You let  _him_  start fights from then on, and you practically  _dare_  him to fucking do something to you.  _Try it, Kirschtein._  It makes him squirm, and he's as dishonest at twenty-one as he was at fourteen.

He's so damn vulnerable because he tries to hide his feelings, and when he lets them out, he doesn't know how to handle them in any other form than a beat down. You're the idiot that lets him get so far under your skin, and you're not entirely sure why. Okay, that's not true. The very thought of touching anyone the way you touch him is downright repulsive. By now, you have a pretty good fucking clue that you know what it is, but damned if you're going to give in before he does.

So when you corner him, surprisingly lonely and hurt about his avoidance, you make no effort to hide your true feelings as you yell, whereas he does, but you  _know_  – god, he's so fucking  _obvious_  – and you can't help your swell of attraction to this asshole with a horse face.

It's like everything clicks in that one moment that you kiss him, and you are rightfully smug about his reaction. When Jean's underneath your hands and your mouth, he's amazingly honest for the first time in his life, and thinking about his shy blush every time you move too close makes you lick your lips.

You like that he's still so easy to rile, the way his eyes follow you –  _awfully true to yourself now, aren't you, Kirschtein –_ and you know  _exactly_  what you're going to do him when the time is right.


	19. when you say hate now, at least you mean it in a nice way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having sex with Eren is a lot like fighting with Eren. You can't seem to stop doing it.

Eren's a rough lover and you love it.

He pinches and nips, fucks like an  _animal_ , and you can't get enough. He leaves you a slobbering mess, grabs your family jewels and makes you beg for release as he pounds your candy ass into the mattress. He laps up your tears while you cross your ankles at the base of his spine. "What do you want, Jean?"

"Fuck, fuck me, let me come, you shiiii _—ahhh!_ " He drives it home and you refuse to acknowledge how good it feels when he's buried in you and you bite your lips. Your body doesn't lie, though. "Eren,  _please_ ," you beg, pulling his hair. He's into that.

"Jesus, stop clenching up," Eren says, coming up to your mouth and sticking his tongue inside. So good. You can't stop. "Relax, Jean, shit."

" _Yes_ ," you hiss as he hits the spot again, his rhythm picking up. You know you're leaving scratches along his spine and you don't care, and you bitch at him that if he doesn't let you come in like  _five seconds_ , you're going to castrate him. He laughs at the empty threat, and lazily laps his tongue around your jaw and then down one of your arms. You hate him. He's fucking you today like he's going to break you in half, so you twist one of his nipples and enjoy the moan he lets out in response. Finally, his grip slacks, so you shoot right on his face, and you're pretty proud of yourself. He glares back at you, eyes hazy, but you can tell by the way his thighs have clenched and how far he has you spread open that he's close behind.

He comes up your ass, and you slap him in the face – you don't remember how many times you've told him not to fucking  _do_  that. You can't find the strength to care as your grunts unite and he quickly pushes in and out, in and out. He slips out when he's satisfied, making sure not to break the condom, and throws it across the floor somewhere after he's out of you. He flops back on the bed after his arm comes down.

You murmur, "I like you, kinda," into his armpit and he laughs a little bit. He turns you a bit so you're facing each other, and you blush because he's so close. You rationalize that both of you are flushed because of the workout.

"I know you do," Jaeger murmurs, and you joke that he's ruined the mood. Stupid, gorgeous motherfucker. You hate him so much, but he's yours. He's your asshole, and you want to be stuck him with for the rest of your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue tomorrow! Thank you guys for going on this crazy ride with me. You guys have absolutely kept me from tearing my hair out during midterms. Hope you enjoyed _denial_ , and hopefully (if time allows), I'll be writing another snk fic very soon. ;)


	20. when people talk about being really happy, you think this is exactly the kind of thing they mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years is a long time, but maybe not long enough.

"I want a dog." Jaeger creeps around the corner while you're making breakfast. You snort.

It's been a long road to where you are now. You're living together, with  _real jobs_ , and it's kind of terrifying how much you love this dope with too much hair and beautiful eyes. "What brought this on?"

You take your eyes off of the skillet where you're making pancakes to look at him. His wet hair is pulled in a clip, and loose curls of his hair are hanging around his neck. Sinful. You can't believe you manage to keep a straight face. He replies while flopping down on the couch in the living room in his t-shirt and sweatpants. "I dunno. Sounded like a good idea to me."

You think about the possibilities of watching Jaeger tussle around the floors of your grungy apartment with a big dog. Your mind turns to him, coming back from his usual morning jog with a leash twisted around his palm.  _God, yes._  You weigh the cons while you pull the pancakes off of the pan and put slices of the cheap bacon on instead. You wander over to the fridge for eggs while they sizzle. Problem number one – house training. Ugh. Problem number two – you two have crazy schedules. How on earth are you going to keep a pet? "I don't know, Eren. Do we have time for that?"

"I knew you would say that," Eren murmurs from the couch. You suddenly feel guilty, even though it's stupid. You two can't have kids, even if you wanted to, and adoption, at least at this point in your lives, isn't possible. As if he can see the cogs turning in your head, Eren sits up and scowls at you. "Stop overthinking it. I'm not upset."

"I have to think about it," you offer sheepishly. He's still so fucking good at reading you. Unfair little shit. "Dogs are a lot of work."

"It's fine if you don't want one." He gets behind you, leans his head on your shoulder, and you try very hard to be mad at him. "What's that look for? Constipated?"

"I should murder you in your sleep." You twist your neck into a brief kiss. His arms fall around your waist, and you elbow him. There's a sick satisfaction as he whines and slinks to the couch again. You finish up breakfast, plating the pancakes, bacon, and eggs for both of you. The coffee pot hums its' completion, so you pour your cups. Eren takes his with cream. You try to delude yourself that you're grown up enough to take it black, but you almost always fall back on the sugar after the first sip. Once you put the mugs on the table in front of the couch, you bring the plates, forks, and syrup.

Thank god it's finally Sunday.

"You've outdone yourself." Eren hums into the first bite of the pancake that he eats dry. Fucking weirdo. At least you put strawberries into them this time – his favorite. "These are so fluffy. How do you do it?"

"Secret," you mumble around a mouthful of food. You refuse to tell him that all you do is add lemon juice to the batter, even though he asks you every time. Breakfast passes with minimal commentary, and it's nice. You may have poked Jaeger with your fork a couple times, though. You catch a glimpse at the calendar posted up next to the TV. It's March already. Jesus, where does the time go? "You're getting old, Eren."

"Oh, fuck you." He downs some of his coffee. "If I'm getting old, so are you. You aren't far behind."

You're both turning twenty-eight. The fact that thirty is just around the corner is terrifying, so you hang on to the twenties for as long as you fucking can. The scariest part of all is that you've known your boyfriend for fourteen years –  _goddamn_ – and you've been dating him for a little over six of them. That's too freaky for words. "I know." You drink your coffee to wash that thought away. "What do you wanna do for your birthday?"

"Armin and Mikasa are coming in town, so I'm definitely going to dinner with them." You've finally gotten comfortable enough with the blonde to understand that he poses absolutely no threat to you, despite your adolescent delusions. You've talked to Armin about the whole ordeal – sober, even. He's happy for the two of you. "It's next week, not my actual birthday, so I guess I'm not sure."

"I'll think of something," you say. You have no idea where to begin.

"We don't have to do anything special." That's true – you two  _are_  pretty comfortable with your miniature sausage fest, cramped in your shitty apartment. You could order Chinese, kiss him good night, and he'd be satisfied with that. Still.

"I know, douche." You kiss him on the cheek because he's still eating. "I want to."

Eren raises a brow, swallows, and kisses you on the jaw. "You're such a damn romantic."

"Shut up before I change my mind."

* * *

It's the day before his birthday – a Friday – but you finally know what you're going to do. You've been planning it since that conversation at breakfast two and a half weeks ago. He'd better declare his fucking love to you on the top of Mount Everest after he gets his present.

* * *

Saturday rolls around, and you're nervous for no good reason. You wait for Eren to get home in precious silence. The key turns in the door, and you try not to jump out of your skin. Your sleepy surprise is awake now, and it can't wait for him to cross the threshold from the door to the living room. You can hear Eren's breathless excitement before you can see him. He walks into the living room with the puppy in his arms, and his blue-green eyes are watery. "You got me a dog." His voice cracked.  _Shit, that's really cute._

"Yeah." You're trying not to play this teary-eyed game. Eren's a big sap – maybe a bigger sap than you – and you're gonna lose it.

God, he's  _actually_  crying. Only in these last six years have you understood exactly how much he cries, and it's become kind of beautiful to you. At least he's honest with his feelings. "You dumb bastard." He hurries over to you, puts the puppy gingerly on the couch, and kisses you so hard you almost choke. When he moves, he buries his head in your neck, clutching tightly to you. You're crying too, and you can't even stop. "This isn't even fair, asshole."

"Love you too, jerkoff." You pat his back and swallow back sobs. The puppy crawls between you two, lazily settling in Eren's lap. He pulls away from you, apologizes for soaking your shirt, and cradles the baby dog in his arms again. It's sentimental, but you're so fucking happy. This is your life now, and you can hardly believe it.

When you're both coherent again, you bicker about names. You want to name him something cool, but you finally give up – it  _is_  Eren's birthday present, after all. He finally decides to call it Hannes, after his old uncle that died a few years ago. You agree that this is a nice name, and you're glad for him. He stops thanking you and starts teasing instead, and you can't lie that you were looking forward to the payoff for your gift.

He asks if you want to be on top or bottom, and you agree for both. You ride him first – a second birthday gift – and then he rides you. It's beautiful and raw, the way Eren moans when you're inside him, and you don't want to know how to please anybody else.

* * *

You forget about your birthday until it is  _way_  too late. You're so busy with work and the dog that you don't even have time to plan anything. Between Eren and yourself, that puppy is spoiled absolutely fucking rotten. Besides, your birthday's on a Wednesday. You're not expecting anything special.

So when you walk into your shitty apartment the weekend before your birthday, which is  _packed_  with old friends, you are blown away. Eren's even wearing those sexy jeans and that knitted cardigan you love to hate.  _How dare you throw me a surprise party in that outfit._

Connie, Reiner, Ymir, Krista, Bertholt (Reiner's buddy from work), and Sasha are all crammed in here, somehow. There's fancy booze around, all of your favorite foods (you knew Eren had to order all this special, because you're picky), and your favorite music is playing on the speakers.

Fucking Eren Jaeger. He's going to be the death of you.

Hannes scurries around your feet, and he's the life of the party. When everybody's not busy chatting and catching up, they fuss and coo over your puppy. You constantly crack jokes that this party is really to welcome him, and not to celebrate you becoming an old fart. Everybody laughs.

None of you can drink like you used to. Connie and Sasha bow out before midnight, and you hug both of them goodbye. They finally got married last year and you tease that the kids are on the way any time now.

The two tax consultants bow out after another half hour of chatter. Bert talks about his current flame for Annie before he starts to pick up his things. Reiner says he's too busy with work to worry about men, and pats you on the back.

Ymir and Krista, your favorite lesbians, leave just after that because Ymir has work tomorrow. They're happy together, so you're happy, even though Ymir's gotten really edgy these last few years.

Once everyone's gone, you flop on the couch around two in the morning, absolutely exhausted. Eren, your roommate and boyfriend, comes next to you, and he's in an exceptionally good mood. You remember to chide him about the outfit. In response, he says, "I know you love it. That's why I wore it." Asshole.

He settles into your lap, and you can feel your words rumble through his chest. "Thank you."

"I still have a surprise for your actual birthday, so don't get too excited." You hate this unnaturally sensitive, overgrown brat.

"If you get another dog, I  _will_  gut you." That's a promise.

He laughs. "Don't worry." Every time he says that, you only get  _more_  concerned. "I'm not gonna steal your idea."

"Fucker," you chuckle into the nape of his neck, brushing some of his dark curls from his skin.

* * *

Eren comes home, and he's quiet. God. If he tries to pull a prank on you on your birthday, you're gonna call Marco and bitch about it for hours. He asks for you to cut his hair, which you do every other Wednesday anyways. Whatever. It feels nice for both of you, so you don't mind, even though it's your birthday.

When you're finished, he cleans himself up, and then tells you to hold on a minute. You sweep the bathroom floor and then head to the living room. For one brief moment, you think he's going to come back and sock you, for old time's sake. You wouldn't exactly appreciate that, but when the two of you  _do_  brawl, the angry sex is  _so_  worth it. You don't want to fight today, though.

You can hear him shuffling through the kitchen. "It's been way more than a minute, dickhole," you comment from the couch.

"Oh, shut up." Eren replies, walking into the living room. He's wearing his really,  _really_  nice suit – the one his mom bought for Connie and Sasha's wedding. It's tailored or something, and the forest green waistcoat is downright criminal. Shit. Without any hesitation, this thickheaded bastard got down on one knee and you couldn't speak. Oh no. Oh hell no. He's doing this. He's actually doing this, and you're gonna flip your shit. "Marry me, Jean."

You burst out laughing. You can't help it. He looks noticeably hurt, but you immediately wave your hand and whisper breathless excuses. How could you not laugh? That was absolutely hysterical. His voice was so damn dry he could've been announcing the weather. "You don't have a single romantic bone in your body."

He was scowling deeply, but the color of his face made it hard to take his expression seriously. "Fuck you, Jean. Will you marry me or not?!"

"Yes, fucking hell, of course. Why would I say no?" You ruffle his hair and take the ring from its case. "You're such a loser."

"You're engaged to this loser," Eren mocks, kissing your fingers. God. As if on cue, Hannes trots in and starts to lick at Eren's ankles. Perfect little shit. You love that dog. "Man, I wore the nice suit for this, too, and you laughed at me. Armin told me I should."

"Well, it  _does_  look good on you," you tease. His eyes gleam expectantly. You hold up a hand. "Wait 'til Friday, you horn dog. Won't stop you if you wanna suck me off, though."

Those eyes are glowering for you (okay, maybe for your dick in particular) but you're so bubbly and in love. Damn. You've got it bad. As if you didn't already know that, now you have a  _ring_  to prove it. "Now I have to get you one. There's no holiday coming up soon."

"Easter?" He offers, tugging your belt off and unzipping your fly. You laugh in response.

"You think Jesus would appreciate a gay guy giving his fiancé a ring on the day he re-emerged from the tomb?"

"I really don't think Jesus would give a fuck," Eren says, pawing his way through your underwear. Kinky bastard. When he sucks you off, he's professional. No teeth, all tongue, and he absolutely lets you fuck his face, despite your insistence that you're going to choke him. You buck your hips and he moans against you. You can feel yourself twitch in his mouth in response.

Happy birthday to you.

* * *

It's another quiet Sunday, and it's the summer. The two of you are sitting on the veranda while the grill sizzles, kicking back beers. You wear matching rings now, and you're amazed at how you got here all over again. You don't know why you fought your emotions for so long as a kid. How fucking stupid were you? Eren clinks his bottle against yours before getting up and grabbing barbequed chicken legs off of the grill. This is the only time of year that he can cook, so you take your hot food with gratitude.

"I love you, you crazy bastard." You say it suddenly, without rhyme or reason. You mean it.

"I know." Eren smiles, mouth covered in messy sauce. You probably look equally stupid. You've never felt so old and so immature at the same time. "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now that we've finally made it to the end, the boys are terribly domestic. I had a great time writing this whole thing, and now I can't believe I didn't intend for this chapter to be the ending from the get-go. What the heck. Hope you guys enjoyed this, and if I can manage to carve out the time to write another fic, hope to see you again! ;)


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